


Shadows

by VickyVicarious



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 23:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickyVicarious/pseuds/VickyVicarious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma, Hook, and Neal run into some trouble fighting Pan’s Shadow. [Based on the 3.07 promo.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: based off the promo for “dark hollow” where Emma seems to be getting attacked by a shadow? And killian’s (and neal if you want) reaction/fight?
> 
> Notes: If you look closely at the promo, particularly 0:21-0:22 seconds in, there are actually two Shadows. Okay, I’m not making that up. Just need to mention that now.

The group investigating the Dark Hollow should have been a disaster – there was far too much tension, too many unsaid words, too many furtive glances back and forth. But there hadn’t been a choice, Snow and David needed to fulfill their part of the plan by finding Regina, and they deserved to spend as much time together as possible right now – and, weirdly, the trio worked well together. In any other situation, they might not have; but this was for _Henry_ and that meant too much to Emma and Neal for their personal issues to get in the way. Hook… well, his motivations aside, he too recognized the importance of capturing Pan’s shadow.

At first, it had felt like a death sentence when Neal confessed how Pan might have _chosen_ to let him off the island over a decade ago. His star map was a fine escape route, yes, but one that only worked if you had some method of flying – and Peter had the only pixie dust on the island, carried it on his person in fact. Not even Tink could help there.

But then Emma had asked how Neal even made it back to Neverland this time, if he didn’t have a secret back door and there were no beans left – and everything had fallen into place very soon after. True, the Shadow was under Pan’s control, and could only take one person at a time, but Neal had squid ink, they could trap it. And if they could harness its magic to the Jolly Roger somehow (the ship was made of enchanted wood, Hook claimed, which _should_ be able to work for this), well, then they could all fly home. Of course, in order to do that they would need someone who knew a heck of a lot more about magic than Emma did, which was where Regina would come in, but it was a viable plan. The first plan they’d had, at least, which had to be worth something. They hadn’t figured out a way to save David, they hadn’t worked through _any_ of their own personal issues, and Henry had broken his mirror so there hadn’t been any progress there, but at least they had this. Even if they couldn’t use the Shadow to get out of Neverland, it would at least be useful as a bargaining chip against Pan – it was _worth going after_ , so Emma sucked up her fears about being alone with Hook and Neal right now, and went after it.

And it had been going _well_. All right, so they always walked with Emma in the middle and none of them really said a word, but that was fine, they were trying to be stealthy anyway. They’d smeared Neal’s squid ink carefully across their swords, tiptoed in from three different directions, and Emma had been so _close_ –

The Shadow moved quicker than she’d have thought possible, rushing past her, slamming into her so rough and _solid_ that she fell with a hiss, her sword falling out of her grip. Emma scrambled for the blade but too late, the Shadow had her by one arm and was lifting her up in the air, pulling hard as it yanked her up towards the skyline. She swore and struggled wildly with it, beating against its grip with her other fist, twisting and pulling and yelling at it, a swooping feeling of fear coming into her stomach as she looked down to Hook and Neal, chasing uselessly after them on the ground far below.

 _Should’ve brought Mary-Margaret_ , Emma thought angrily, furious at herself for not seeing the advantage of an archer in a fight against something that could _fly_ –

With a final grunt, she pried the damn thing’s fingers loose, but didn’t manage to brace herself in time for hitting the ground. She landed hard on her left arm, smashing half-against a large tree root and rolling awkwardly away from where the Shadow was already looping around after her. A quick glance around her showed Hook and Neal running towards her but still too far away to help, Emma’s arm was _searing_ and she was afraid to look at it, the Shadow was coming back – and she saw the sword on the ground, just a few feet away. Their struggle must have taken them in a circle of some kind – Emma didn’t care to question her good fortune right now. She scrambled for the weapon and raised it up at the Shadow, shuffling into an awkward battle stance with her injured arm dangling uselessly.

And then she saw it. Swore, and ducked around to lower her back against a nearby tree stump, cradling her arm to her chest, because there were not supposed to be _two Shadows_.

The first Shadow swooped down and barely missed her as she ducked low to the ground. She heard Neal yelling her name – clearly they’d seen the second Shadow too – but didn’t have the chance to answer as both Shadows were fast approaching again.

“Shit,” Emma swore as they closed in and she fumbled her sword up to defend herself. She’d only just had enough squid ink for one Shadow at the start of this, and that was before she’d dropped the blade in the dirt and probably smeared it all off. Her arm was starting to throb, dull and deep, bringing tears to her eyes that she quickly blinked away. “Shit, shit, _shit_.”

She’d just resigned herself to getting carried off once more – hopefully Hook or Neal would be close enough to get her down this time – when there was a wordless shout, and the closest Shadow abruptly fell to the side, propelled by a flash of silver. The second Shadow seemed to hesitate for a moment, hovering over Emma and its brethren, but finally swooped up and away just as Neal came dashing up to Emma.

He fell to his knees next to her, gasping, pulling her into a rough hug. “Emma, Emma, are you okay?”

She winced when his touch jostled her left arm, but clenched her teeth and shoved him back as far as possible while still letting him support her. “I’m fine, I’m okay, where’s the Shadow?”

“It’s taken care of,” Hook cut in, striding around the large stump. His face twisted slightly when he saw them entwined, but he didn’t comment, just bent down and picked up her sword. “Hope you don’t mind me borrowing this, darling.”

Before Emma could ask why he needed it, Hook took two long steps over to where the first Shadow was writhing across the ground a few feet away, a familiar sword sticking out of its back. With a little grin, he stabbed it a second time just below the head. The dark thing shuddered, a slow shimmering glow beginning to spread over it as the squid ink magic finally took hold, and Hook turned back, gesturing for Neal’s sword as well. Once skewered with all three blades, the Shadow finally lay still, though Emma watched it warily nonetheless.

“Wait, if we use all of our ink on that Shadow, then what about the other –”

“It won’t bother us,” Neal’s face was pale, his eyes wide. But his tone was sure, if a little dumbfounded. “That’s my father’s shadow, he told me – he told me he cut it loose and had it hide his dagger somewhere… It won’t hurt us.”

Emma digested that for a moment, glancing over at Hook. She half-expected to see him scanning their surroundings for a sign of the dagger (centuries of habit would be hard to break, and they must have stumbled close or else Gold’s Shadow wouldn’t have had a reason to appear) but instead his gaze was firmly locked on her.

Her arm, to be specific.

Without a word, he strode over and kneeled down next to where Neal was still propping her up. Digging in his coat, he produced a familiar flask, yanked the cork out with his teeth and spit it to the side – it bounced off the Shadow – before using his hook to gently encircle her wrist and pull her arm straight.

“Oh, not this again,” Emma sighed, but didn’t pull away. Looking at her arm for the first time, she noted with relief that it wasn’t broken. Oh, she’d likely bruised down to her bone, and there was a deep cut where a stone or sharp edge of root had sliced her forearm open, but all in all she hadn’t fared nearly as badly as she had feared. The wound was full of dirt, though, and Hook’s intentions were more than clear. She sucked a breath in between her teeth in preparation.

“Afraid so, love,” Hook murmured with surprising gentleness, eyeing her arm thoroughly before upending the flask over it and emptying the entire thing directly onto her wound. Despite knowing what was coming this time, Emma still wasn’t prepared, and she couldn’t help a loud grunt of pain, free hand clenching tightly onto Neal’s shirt. Her vision actually went blurry for a moment before she blinked the forming tears away, and looked back down to where Hook had removed his scarf and was brushing the few remaining bits of dirt away.

“Just a bit more, sweetheart,” Hook muttered, as he shook his scarf out and then reached forward to try and knot it around her arm, struggling with the task. The angle was all wrong for his teeth to assist, and Emma was just about to reach over and help him, when Neal got there first.

“I’ve got this,” he said quickly. He met Hook’s eyes, both men crouched over her, and for a moment they both held onto the scarf and just stared at each other. Emma watched them, wanting to intervene but unsure how, unwilling to open the lid on all of the tensions currently swirling in the air between all three of them.

But then Hook let go, something dark flashing across his face, let go and drew back, standing up to watch as Neal carefully wrapped the makeshift bandage around Emma’s arm. Briefly, before he schooled his features, his expression was a perfect copy of the Echo Cave – a perfect match for when she’d glanced back at him before crossing the bridge to Neal, and Emma’s heart thumped painfully.

“Hook,” she said, so abrupt she surprised even herself. “How’d you get the Shadow?”

He blinked down at her, then winced, glancing at the motionless Shadow. “Uh – threw my sword. Bloody risky gamble.”

When Emma continued to stare at him blankly, he shrugged, and half-raised his arms as if to demonstrate how he’d thrown it, his hook around his own wrist for stability. He cleared his throat when she just kept staring.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Emma said, then snickered a little. She felt Neal pause slightly in the act of tying a third knot in her bandage, but ignored him. “It’s just that’s how I killed a dragon, too. And Davi – in Henry’s story, Prince Charming tried that with Regina.”

She didn’t know what kind of reception she’d expected for this news, but the flash of pleasure, quickly followed by a sneer, wasn’t it. “What a lovely thing to have in common, Swan,” Hook said, eyes flicking down at her and then away again, “terrible form with a sword. It was a risky bloody move, and idiotic besides.”

Neal’s fingers had stilled completely, but he didn’t move away from her arm, keeping his head down and hands on her skin. Emma didn’t even care, too busy staring at Hook. She felt heavy yet lightheaded, her heartbeat ringing in her ears. She hadn’t missed the sudden switch to pet-names as soon as she was injured, striking after a day of radio silence, nor the return to her last name now, the harsh, bitten-off sound of it.

“Then why’d you do it?” she asked, softly.

“It was… a risk I was willing to take.” Hook’s eyes darkened, his head tipping forward, his voice a low, intense rasp, everything about him both angry and vulnerable; a clear _isn’t it bloody obvious why?_

Emma’s breath caught. She stared back, unable to look away, unable to speak, unable to _think_ , just – she wanted to say something, wanted to… Every moment longer she held his gaze, it grew more intense, more _wanting_ , and she shouldn’t – couldn’t want too, not now, not like this, but she couldn’t _breathe_ , no one had ever looked at her this way before.

Neal stood up in between them.

“Done,” he said. “We should get that back before the ink wears off.”

Emma accepted the hand he offered her, letting him pull her to her feet. She let go right afterwards, but Neal held on a second longer, squeezing slightly. He was watching Hook the whole time, a thoughtful expression on his face as the pirate turned deliberately away from the two of them, heading over to hoist the shadow up over one shoulder.

Neal squeezed Emma’s fingers one more time before slipping away. Hook glanced back over his shoulder, jaw clenching and looking away quickly. The silence was suddenly very heavy, as both men glanced at each other and at Emma in turns. The air felt humid, wet with tension and difficult to breathe, her heart beating overtime.

Her arm felt laced with fire and ice where they’d touched her skin.

Emma closed her eyes, making silent promises. _After Henry is back. After we get back to Storybrooke_.

She opened her eyes on a deep breath. They were both looking at her, waiting.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s get this guy back to camp.”


End file.
